Whoever invented the snooze button should be shot, in Louis' opinion.
It's a freezing cold November morning and they're still on a house stand-off about the heating: the girls and Louis wander around pitifully layered in all their jumpers and fluff socks, huddling over the hob when anyone else is cooking and cuddling up on the sofa to retain warmth, but Liam – who is in charge of the bills, so has final say – still claims it's too early to put the heating on. So Louis has resorted to nicking Jesy's fluffy purple blanket and draping it over his own on top of his 12-tog duvet, and he's still freezing cold.
He sneaks an arm out from under the duvet, turning off his alarm and, while his fury is still hot (about the only part of him that's remotely warm) he types out a message to Liam that reads I hate you your a stingey cold-hearted twat before opening up the unread message from 7:37. Louis shudders to think there's someone else awake as early as he is.
Babe can You pick me up from Eds I'm cold and really hungover .xxx
Louis groans into his pillow, typing back you are fucking useless harold also no point coming home its even colder here
He watches the screen dim and the time tick over to 8:32, wondering just how long he dares to leave it before he'll be late for his lecture. His phone buzzes in his hand just as he's nodding off again.
but you are there and this armchair is not comfy :(
Louis shivers under his piles of blankets, and yes, it's times like this he misses Harry's big warm body, even when he's got one arm thrown over his neck and almost suffocating him, or when he slings himself over Louis' body like he's a pillow and he wakes up with a dead arm. Hungover Harry is always extra cuddly. And Louis is so cold.
if you hang on a bit I can come pick you up in the car after my lecture is finished
Great thaaaaaaanks. love you lots, now I'm going to throw up
Charming !
I always am... Get out of bed so you're not late for your lecture, see you soon pumpkin .xxx
Louis grins at the screen, heart swelling stupidly just at Harry's words through the screen, and is just about to reply how do you know I'm not up completely on time and already on campus smartarse when there's a loud knock on his door.
"Get up, Louis, or we're walking without you!"
"I've still got time!" Louis yells in reply, even though it's now somehow 8:40 and he's got five minutes to get dressed and shovel some Coco Pops into his mouth before they leave.
"Mean it, Lou," Leigh-Anne says, even though Louis knows her and Jade will wait for him, just as he takes a deep breath and throws off his blankets, the cold air like a physical wall as he hops out of bed and dresses in record time.
He hurries down the stairs – minding the dodgy step as he goes – nearly tripping on a pile of shoes as he dashes into the kitchen at the end of the hallway, condensation frosting up the windows and the leaky tap still dripping. He can hear Leigh-Anne in her room above him, and so he carefully extracts a bowl from the towering pile of washing up by the sink, quickly rinses it out under the tap and pours out his cereal. He's got no milk so he nicks some of Liam's – payback – and stands up as he eats, quickly snapchatting Harry before Jade wanders into the kitchen, bundled up against the cold with a big fluffy scarf and hat pulled down over her curly hair.
"Morning," she says, pushing her glasses up her nose and shifting her bag on her shoulder.
"Mffflp," Louis says in return, milk dripping down his chin. Jade wipes it away fondly before going to grab her pasta from the fridge.
"Did Harry come back here last night? God, this kitchen stinks of booze," she says, theatrically wafting a hand in front of her face and giving the table – which is crowded with empty beer cans and spirit bottles – a dirty once over. "Bloody hell, that's a lot of alcohol. They were making so much noise, they must've been absolutely smashed."
Louis swallows before answering this time. "He stayed at Ed's, I told him I wasn't going to sit up with him while he was drunk and trying to write a song about my bum again." Jade snorts, combing her fingers through her hair.
"Yeah, I heard about that. You two are so weird."
Louis rolls his eyes, trying to be nonchalant, but he reckons she can see through it. "Yeah, well, he's feeling sorry for himself now so I'm gonna run back from the lecture and pick him up in the car in a bit."
"You're so whipped," she says, grinning at him. Louis finishes his cereal with a little burp, shoving the bowl into the sink.
"Rude. Not at all. I'm just very obliging. Might as well make use of the car since I've got it."
"C'mon guys, we're gonna be late again," Leigh-Anne calls from the hallway, as Louis dashes past her upstairs to grab his coat and bag. By the time he's shoved his shoes on the girls are halfway down the street, and he has to jog to catch up with them, barging in between them and linking arms with them both as they walk up to campus, breath cloudy in their faces.
They have to split once they reach the theatre on campus, Leigh-Anne taking a left up to the Maths tower and Jade heading the other way to the Biology building. Louis makes it to his lecture with a minute to spare, slipping on the end of a row with some girls he recognises from previous nights out with the drama lot, and then...zones out.
He definitely falls asleep without about ten minutes, head pillowed on his arms, and wakes up when one of the girls – Sophia, he thinks her name is – prods him to get up. The lecture's over, and he's got two snapchats and three texts from Harry.
Needy, he thinks, even as he grins and replies to all five messages, telling Harry he'll be there in twenty minutes and sending him plenty of xxxxx's so he knows he really means it and to make up for his snappishness earlier.
He makes it home in record time, dumping his bag in the back of the car as he starts it up, mindful of the dodgy clutch as he reverses out of the tight space and zooms off. Ed's got a flat in town with a couple of his musician friends – Louis doesn't know their names but he knows Harry's friends with them all – and he's been there a few times for parties. When he pulls up Harry is waiting outside, leaning against a wall pitifully hunched over with his hands stuffed in the pockets of his coat and guitar hooked over his shoulder. He brightens up when he spots Louis, though, even though he still looks pasty and a little grey, and with any other person Louis would not stop mocking them, but this is Harry, so when he clambers into the passenger side Louis just squeezes his thigh and murmurs hey baby into his kiss.
"I want to die," Harry says, slinking back into the seat, guitar between his legs. Louis keeps his hand on his thigh, rubbing soothingly, and pouts a little at him.
"You need to pace yourself, babes, I keep telling you," he says, thumb rubbing over the seam of his jeans. "Did you get any writing done?"
"Dunno. Not really," Harry says, resting his forehead against the window as Louis removes his hand from Harry's leg to shift the car into gear, though it takes a couple of goes, the gearbox cranking angrily as he does so.
Harry's quiet on the way back, eyes closed and a little furrow on his brow, and Louis decides it's best not to say anything in case Harry is about to be sick all over his car. When they get home he puts the kettle on while Harry trudges upstairs, shivering and glancing longingly at the boiler as he wonders how it's physically possible for it to be colder inside than out.
Maybe optimistically, Louis makes Harry a cup too, and when he gets back to their room he finds Harry buried under the duvet and blanket, his clothes and guitar in a pile by the floor and only a tangle of dark curls visible. Louis puts the tea down on the bedside table and clambers into bed instead, still fully clothed, and hums happily when Harry folds his arms around him, eyes still closed.
"Hey," Louis breathes, pulling the duvet up over both of their heads, breath humid in between them as he presses his cold hand to Harry's forehead.
"Mm. Nice," Harry mumbles , attempting to burrow himself into Louis' jumper as he sticks his hands down the back of his trackies to squeeze his bum. Louis smiles as he kisses his cheek, pushing Harry's hair back off of his forehead and wrapping his other arm around his neck.
"You," Louis says slowly, scratching a hand through Harry's hair, "are a massive failure for a student."
Harry groans into his shoulder, the sound vibrating through him. Louis smiles contentedly, shutting his eyes and tightening his hold around his neck. He feels one of Harry's thumbs rub the base of his spine and he hides his grin in the side of his boyfriend's head – it's just ridiculous how this, something as small as this, makes his chest inflate and heart want to burst right out of his body. Still. Even after eighteen months of barely being apart, he keeps falling in love with Harry all over again every day.
"Nice bum," Harry mumbles, after a while, hands still firmly moulded against his arse. Louis closes his eyes, sifting his hand through the curls at the nape of his neck.
"Should write a song about it."
"I keep trying." Louis laughs, feeling the ghost of Harry's lips on the side of his neck. "Can't find the words."
They both laugh, and then there's silence again in the humid darkness under the duvet: Louis almost likes these times best, when he can pretend he and Harry are just one person, breathing in sync and touching from collarbones to ankles, hips to hips and nose to neck.
"Ed says he might be able to find us a new bassist," Harry says. "So that's good."
"You always need a new bassist, babe."
"Yeah. But this time Niall said if we get a decent guy we all get on with, he might think about continuing after we graduate. So." He yawns hugely, nuzzling his forehead into Louis' neck. "That would be great."
Louis concentrates on twirling a strand of hair around his index finger. "I thought Niall had that internship with that production company sorted?"
"Apparently he's only been shortlisted. Though, to be fair, I did have to buy him a lot of beer last night to convince him we had a chance of making it..."
Louis smiles, kissing Harry's warm skin, just over his pulse. "Let me talk to him. I'll convince him. Tell him my livelihood next year depends on my boyfriend becoming a millionaire rockstar. Or indie hipster-star. If that's a thing."
"Oi," Harry says, teeth nipping at his jaw. "Does that mean you're going to dump me if I'm not a millionaire by the time I'm twenty-five?"
"More like twenty-two," Louis says, but kisses him twice more anyway, rubbing his nose into his hair, even though he smells like stale beer and smoke and damp. "But, like. I kinda need to know what you're going to be doing. When I start applying for unis to do my teaching qualifications, I want to, like. Be where you're going to be."
Stupidly, even though he and Harry have discussed this before – albeit usually absolutely wasted in a pie and chips shop at 3 in the morning, with Harry holding both of his hands in his and vehemently promising to marry him and bear all of his children – he still feels nervous. Especially when Harry lifts his head off of his shoulder, squinting tiredly at him before pecking a kiss to his nose.
"Yeah. 'Course." He settles back on the pillow, dragging Louis over as well so he's settled on top of him, and that's quite all right with Louis – it's one of his favourite places to be, draped over a warm and sleepy Harry. "You want to stay here? Or d'you think you'd be OK going to London?"
"London's so expensive, babes," Louis says, knotting his fingers in the sides of Harry's hair and shifting so he's a little more comfortable over him. "Especially if you are just doing gigs and I might not get a student loan."
"Yeah." Harry closes his eyes, and Louis is worried for a minute he's annoyed before he says, "Can we, like, proper talk about this when my head doesn't feel like it's about to fall off? I don't mind what we do. Just wanna be with you wherever it is."
Louis smiles, so hard he thinks it might break his face, and settles down so his head is on Harry's heartbeat, kissing his chest.
"Sure. Go to sleep. Love you."
He's nearly dozing off himself when he hears Harry mumble, "Gonna have a number 1 hit about your bum."
"Go to sleep," he says, trying not to laugh as Harry squeezes his arse, and the day might be a complete write-off, but at least he's warm and with his favourite person in the entire world.
"I'm just going to go ahead and say it," Louis says, to break the tension. "I'm a bit jealous."
It's Saturday evening, and he, Harry, Zayn, Perrie and Jesy are in the living room watching X Factor. Well, they're supposed to be watching X Factor, but in fact all they – or at least Louis – have been doing for the last hour or so is listen to the steady thump and squeak of a bed moving in the room above them.
"Definitely an energetic display," Harry's voice rumbles through his chest, where he's pressed against him under Louis' outstretched arm, gangly legs resting on the coffee table in front of them. Louis squeezes their linked hands and nuzzles the top of his head.
"Nothing we couldn't beat, babes."
There's a chorus of groans and retching noises (as Jesy pretends to throw up in her tuna salad).
"Dunno," Harry says conversationally, checking the time on his phone. "It's been, like, an hour and three minutes. Not even like a snack break or anything."
"Snack break," Zayn titters, pulling his sleeves over his hands and shaking his head as he grins.
"Not everyone needs a banana mid-sex, Harry," Perrie snickers from his other side, and Louis watches as Harry puts on his best annoyed face and glowers at her.
"I don't always have a banana," he says, as Louis sneaks his hand over his face to cover his mouth, for both of their sake's. "Sometimes I haffannenn-"
"Enough of that, my darling," Louis says sweetly, digging his fingers into Harry's cheeks. "Who is this guy, anyway? Anyone know?"
"I think it's that rugby bloke she got with last week," Jesy says, mushing her salad about. "God, he was fit. I'm definitely jealous."
"Leigh-Anne, what a dark horse," Harry mutters, opening up Twitter on his phone. "I'm going t-"
"Don't Tweet anything, for the love of all that's good," Louis says, snatching his phone off of it. Harry pouts up at him.
"She would never have known-"
"-because nobody ever understands your tweets," Zayn says, pulling Perrie's fluffy socked feet into his lap.
"One less cryptic Tweet in the world is probably for the best," Louis says, before handing him his phone back with a warning look. Harry shrugs and types it out anyway.
@Harry_Styles: Thud, thud, thud.
"Subtle," Louis snorts, as Harry leans up to smack a kiss to his jaw. As soon as he presses send, however, the thuds speed up, and abruptly stop.
"Well," Perrie says with a grin, "that was a bit anticlimactic."
"Did we just listen to our housemate come?" Harry says, with a perturbed frown on his face. Louis realises that he's got the remote control in his hand and had turned down the volume ten minutes ago when they'd thought it was nearly over.
"Wouldn't be the first time," Jesy says, glowering at everyone. "What a bloody prat I was, picking the room sandwiched between two couples. You all have sex really loudly, do you know that? No, wait," she says, dramatically holding her finger up before any of the four of the have a chance to respond, "you must do, because every time it happens I put nursery rhymes full blast through my subwoofer to put you off."
"I told you it was Wheels on the Bus I could hear the other day!" Perrie squeals, punching Zayn on the thigh.
"You two are the worst," Jesy says, murder in her eyes. "Especially since our beds are so close together. Sometimes I feel like just popping in and joining, it basically feels like I'm there all the time anyway."
"Well," Zayn says, raising his eyebrows, before Perrie whacks him in the leg again and Jesy's mouth drops open in a perfect O.
"God, I wasn't being serious, Zayn, I can't-"
"Hang on a minute," Louis interrupts, brain ticking over, "you think those two vanilla pods are the worst? What happened to all those times in first year you kept drunkenly asking me to have sex with you because you wanted to know why Harry always made so much noise?"
"All right, simmer down, that wasn't for everyone to know," Jesy says, glaring at him, while Louis watches Harry's eyes bug out of his head – he could've sworn he'd told him about that, but maybe not.
"Heeeey, back off," Harry says, grabbing Louis' arm around his shoulders, "this one's mine, thank you very much-"
"I wasn't trying to steal your man," she says exasperatedly.
"Good." Harry kisses the inside of Louis' elbow, making a little puddle of warmth spread out in his stomach as he blithely continues, "Anyway, half those things he does to me really wouldn't work so well on a girl, if you get my drift-"
"Fine, that's it, you two are the worst, Jesus Christ," she says, finally pushing aside her half-eaten salad. "Thank you very much, I've completely lost my appetite and I feel both disgusted and kind of jealously horny all at once."
"Jealously horny?" Louis snickers, before waggling his eyebrows at Harry."I could be up for it, fancy a go, babes?"
"Well..." Harry glances at the TV. "I do actually kinda want to see the last performance, and I am a bit tired to be honest..."
"Maybe he needs a snack," Perrie giggles, but Louis throws a sofa cushion at her, because nobody makes fun of his boy. He pulls Harry into his chest, even though it means he ends up somewhat ungracefully draped over him, one gangly leg half in the air as he tries to rebalance, and holds onto him tightly.
"Rude friends," he says instead, nuzzling his nose into Harry's hair. "I love you even though you sometimes stop for a snack break."
"It helps me last longer," Harry says with a shrug, pulling Louis' arm tighter around his neck.
"That's it, I'm going to my room," Jesy bursts out, grabbing her half-finished plate and her phone and getting up. "The first thing I'm going to do when I get a new boyfriend is have sex really loudly everywhere to pay you back. I mean it!" she says, as she stalks out of the room.
"Bit extreme," Harry says through a yawn, as Louis starts meticulously separating strands of hair at the top of his head, ready to twist them into little plaits. "Maybe we should keep it down in future."
"I'll take it into consideration," Louis says gravely, but all that happens that evening is they remain curled up together on the sofa until even Zayn and Perrie have gone up to bed, watching reruns of American Dad on BBC3 until Louis falls asleep with his head resting on Harry's shoulder. Tomorrow night, he thinks sleepily, as Harry burrows his arms under his body and carries him up to bed.
In fact, he forgets all about it, until a week later when he and Niall are sitting at the table in the kitchen, Niall having some of his never-ending supply of Irish stew and Louis drinking a beer and waiting for Harry to come home from his late lecture.
"This girl, right," Niall says, one hand holding his phone, the other stabbing at his stew, "wants me to go out with her Thursday night, but I said I'd chill with the band that night. And I've got dates all the rest of the week so I can't rearrange and she's going away at the weekend. Jesus, I don't know what to do. She's so fit, look." He turns the phone to Louis, sad puppy eyes in full force. Louis squints at the screen: a girl with wavy brown hair and admittedly very nice eyes stares back at him.
"Yeah, stunner. Might take her out myself, actually, I'm free all week."
"Ha ha, thanks for your input," Niall says drily, just as Harry's head appears in the kitchen window, tapping mournfully on the glass.
"Don't ask me for opinions on girls then Neil," he replies sagely, as Niall leans back and unlocks the door to let Harry in.
"Miserable out there," Harry says, pushing the hood of his parka down, rain dripping off his nose and the few curls that have escaped his beanie. He toes off his boots and drops the sodden Tesco bag on the table before leaning down to give Louis a cold, wet kiss.
"You're late – fuck!" Louis exclaims, limbs spasming out as Harry sticks a cold hand down the back of his shirt, knee exploding in pain as it knocks against the tableleg.
"Tesco was busy," he says, wrapping his arms around Louis' neck from behind and kissing the top of his head as an apology. Louis pretends to be disgruntled at the attention but really he shrinks back into Harry's hold. Even though he is sodden with rain and has a cold hand pressed to his cheek. "Nialler, you free this evening? Thought we could pop down the pub with Dylan and get to know him a bit."
"Dylan?" Louis says, glancing between Harry and Niall. "Who's Dylan?"
"New bassist, apparently," Niall says, chewing as he considers. "Meant to be meeting this girl at the union pub at seven...I can make nine, maybe? Depends how it goes."
"Cool," Harry says, as Louis loosely holds onto his wrist, Harry's arms still draped loosely over his shoulders. He wants another kiss and maybe a longer cuddle but Harry's not getting the hint, so he gives him his best big eyes and waits. Harry, however, only has eyes for Niall's dinner. "Your stew smells great, by the way."
"Of course it does, it's my mam's," Niall says, as if it's the most ridiculous thing in the world, before passing the fork over for Harry to nick a mouthful. "You going to Josh's after to test out the new drumkit?"
"Yeah, I was gonna head to Ed's anyway, sure I can convince him to come," he replies, taking the mouthful and handing back the fork. Louis strokes his forefinger over the delicate bones of Harry's wrist, over the little inked padlock that Ed tattooed on him last year, and tries not to be too outwardly disappointed that Harry's probably going to spend the third night in a row sleeping at Ed's.
"What did you get in Tesco, babes?" Louis asks, to detract from band talk. Harry lets go of Louis to shrug his coat off, hanging it over the back of an empty chair before emptying the Tesco bag.
"Um – what you asked for, some more full fat milk, tea, Nesquick, frying steak, gorgonzola, potatoes...oddly specific list," he finishes, glancing at Louis. He grins up at him.
"Yes, Harold. I'm cooking you dinner tonight."
"You're cooking me dinner?" Harry asks, looking nowhere near as pleased as Louis had envisaged, and in fact a little bit – wary?
"Yes, Harry. Is that all right?"
"No, it's fine," Harry says, raising his eyebrows and sharing a look with Niall. "I'm just surprised, that's all."
"I'm not going to poison you like last time, if that's what you're worried about," Louis says, and Harry's expression is all he needs to see that yes, that is what he's worried about. "I swear, if I have to explain one more time about how it was not my fault that that meat was dodgy-"
"Please, let's never bring that up again, that was not a fun 24 hours for any of us," Niall says, screwing his face up as he scrolls through his phone.
"It's OK, don't worry, I trust you," Harry says, as Louis gets up to inspect the shopping, slinking his free arm around his waist and resting his chin on his shoulder. "Oh. I got something else too. Jelly sweets on a stick," he says proudly, bringing up a sugar-coated jelly pumpkin lantern and a jelly ghost on a stick. "They were reduced. You can pick which one you want."
"Pumpkin," Louis says promptly, and Harry hands it over.
"All yours, pumpkin," he says, kissing his cheek. "I'll let you get on."
"Um," Louis says exaggeratedly, holding on to Harry's wrist as he goes to leave. "I might need – and slight hand with getting things started-"
Ten minutes later and Harry is keeping a watchful eye on a distracted Louis as he goads Niall into telling all his Tinder stories.
"What are you using a dating app for?" Harry asks incredulously, as Niall artfully stacks his plate on the mountain of washing up that has collected by the sink. "You're only twenty-one, I thought that was for...when you're out of options?"
"Nah, mate, it's actually well good," he explains, schlepping over to Harry and producing his phone. Louis stops peeling potatoes so he can get a good look at Harry's expression as he tells his Tinder tales. "You get this app, right, and you literally...it comes up with a bunch of girls' Facebook profile pictures, and you decide if you think they're hot or not – literally just swipe-" Louis snorts, seeing Harry's increasingly perplexed expression. "-then if she likes you as well, this chat thingy pops up, and you arrange somewhere to meet up. Fecking fantastic, if you ask me. I've only been on it a couple of months and I've got some great shags out of it. And they're all lovely girls as well, of course."
"So that's why you've been so busy, you're...a serial dater?" Harry says, mildly horrified. Niall grins at him.
"Yeah mate. It's bloody excellent."
"Not a serial killer, babes, are you getting confused?" Louis grins, which earns him Harry's hand sneaking towards his tummy and getting a quick tickle in before Louis leaps away.
"You need to concentrate on not giving me food poisoning, thank you," Harry says, just as the front door opens and, a moment later – as Harry is hovering over Louis as he somewhat haphazardly peels the potatoes – Leigh-Anne bustles into the kitchen with a cheery, "Hiiii!"
"Alright, Leigh?" Niall says, sitting with his feet up on the table and absorbed in his phone.
"Hey," Louis says, crooking his neck to see her and – well. There's a very tall, broad man standing behind her, arm on her waist, and he doesn't get to ask who it is before she introduces them.
"Guys, this is Jason – Jace, this is Harry, Louis and Niall, my housemates," she says, beaming. Louis' brain ticks over and he nudges Harry with his elbow, who gives him a befuddled look.
"Thud thud thud," he mutters, and then Harry's confusion melts away and his eyes widen instead.
"Nice to meet you mate," Harry says, shaking Jason's hand; Louis does the same, abandoning his potatoes and standing shoulder-to-shoulder with Harry as Leigh grabs a bottle of wine from the fridge and then leads Jason back out of the room. He cranes his neck to see into the hallway, where he can just about make out them going up the stairs.
"Oh my god," Louis says, nearly apoplectic, glowering up at Harry. "He's built like a fucking truck, bloody hell, I thought if you were that bulky you were – you know – undercompensated in the penis department-"
"To be fair, what's the size of his dick got to do with how long he lasts," Harry muses, staring up at the ceiling. Even Niall is distracted from his phone. "He might be, like, an Ikea pencil. But he goes like the clappers."
"An Ikea pencil," Niall echoes, chuckling madly to himself, as Louis grips the potato peeler in his hand like a deadly weapon, glaring at the ceiling.
"Relax," Harry says with a smile, touching Louis' wrist. "What's it matter to you? You're not the one getting friction burns downstairs. C'mon. I'm starving."
"Hmm," Louis says, but resumes peeling anyway, even when the faint thuds start up again after only five minutes.
"I can't believe I never noticed how thin these walls are before," Harry says, sounding incredibly amused. Louis can see his hand twitch as he stops himself from grabbing Louis' wrist as he slips a little on the potatoes.
"Oh, yeah. You can hear everything," Niall says conversationally, as Liam comes into the kitchen dressed in only sweatpants and a West Brom shirt – not even a jumper! Louis is convinced he is superhuman and/or antifreeze runs in his veins – and nods at them.
"All right, lads?"
"Louis' cooking me dinner," Harry says proudly, before actually grabbing Louis' wrist this time and giving him a soft look. "Careful, I don't want you slicing your fingers off."
"I am being careful," Louis grumbles, as Liam opens the fridge, grinning.
"Good luck with that, mate."
"Will everyone stop having that tone of voice, please? I can actually cook, you know, I've done pizza and pasta loads of times before-" His complaining is muffled in Harry's chest as he sidles up to him and pulls him into a hug, kissing the top of his head.
"Sorry, baby," he mumbles. "I trust you. I just don't want you to slice your lovely fingers off, not least because blood makes me feel really sick."
"Priorities," Louis mutters, but peels extra diligently anyway.
"I can't decide if I find you two more gross when you're constantly banging or when you're being sickeningly romantic with one another," Liam muses, drinking milk straight from the carton. Niall cackles loudly behind him as Louis twists his arm back to flip them off.
"Bugger off, Payno, I'm still pissed off at you for the heating," Louis says, the sounds of sex above him still irrationally irritating him. "Besides,we're not the ones having sex at half past seven on a Tuesday evening so loud that the whole house can hear."
"What, you mean that faint knocking?" Liam says, raising an eyebrow.
"What do you mean, faint knocking?" Louis echoes.
"It's not exactly like a porno, is it?" Liam puts the milk back, flexing his back muscles. "Not like you two, Jesus. I could've lived my entire life without hearing Harry moan your name so loudly it's burned into my brain."
"Really," Louis mutters, glancing up at Harry. He just shrugs, sucking on his jelly ghost.
"Like, get some headphones," is his suggestion. Liam laughs, shaking his head.
"Whatever, man. Time to move on. You guys have had your honeymoon phase, now it's Leigh's turn. As long as I can't hear her moaning oh yeah baby, harder, harder, so good-" This finally makes Harry blush and cover his face with his hands, and Louis bites his lip at how distressingly accurate Liam's impersonation is. "-then I'm all good with it."
"That's it," Louis says, when Liam has gone, putting down his potato peeler and grabbing Harry's wrist. "We're having sex tonight."
"Um , okay, but I was, like... you know, meeting Dylan," Harry says slowly, offering him the last of the jelly ghost. Louis considers it, before gnashing his teeth and biting down.
"After, then."
"Sure."
Niall goggles at them from the table.
"You two are so weird," he cackles, still typing away at his phone. "Though if you're planning on making a sex schedule, fancy sending me a copy for reference?"
Louis throws some potato peel at him and nearly causes a food fight before Harry gets mashed potato in his hair and threatens to leave before dinner is served. The food is actually edible – Harry assures him the steak is meant to be pink in the middle so he assumes he hasn't poisoned either of them – so with a successful spring in his step he kisses Harry goodbye and spends the rest of the evening in Perrie's room while her and Jade re-dye Zayn's blonde streak and Jade shares her bottle of wine with him. He falls asleep in Perrie's bed and doesn't hear Harry come home until he slinks in next to him.
"Took me ages to find you," Harry mumbles into his neck. Jade snorts in her sleep on Louis' other side. His head feels fuzzy, and he remembers that there was wine.
"Big warm Harry-blanket," he mumbles, as Harry shuffles and twists so that they're wrapped up together.
"Why are you and Jade sleeping in Perrie's room?" Harry murmurs, stroking Louis' fringe off of his forehead. Louis scrunches his face up and rubs his nose on Harry's chest.
"Wine. Many wines. Perrie and Zayn went to his room. Probably having sex," he adds mournfully.
"Well," Harry murmurs, knuckles brushing his stomach, "we do have an appointment pencilled in-"
"Don't you fucking dare," a quiet voice mumbles from Louis' other side. Louis sighs, stretching his other arm out and pulling Jade into his chest. She huffs but cuddles him back anyway.
"Not even a quick handy?" Louis says, into her hair.
"I will strangle you in your sleep if you wank each other off right now," she says peacefully. Louis feels Harry laugh, and kiss the top of his head, then reach over to squeeze Jade's shoulder.
"Cuddles it is," Harry says, and then the wine takes over again, and Louis falls asleep.
"Do you think," Louis says suddenly, glancing up from the TV screen and narrowing his eyes at the door, where somebody – or somebodies – is giggling and stumbling around in the hallway, "our sex life has got boring?"
"Mmm?" is all Harry replies, kissing his neck again, hand working slickly over his cock. He bites on his earlobe and Louis is momentarily distracted, because, well, Harry's hand feels so good and he's breathing all hotly on the shell of his ear and he wants to come, but also – also he realises that they're lying on their bed with their hands down each other's pants while the X Factor results show plays on Louis' laptop and that is not very sexy. Not very sexy at all.
Louis pulls his hand out of Harry's jeans and sits up, dislodging Harry from where he'd been nosing up his neck and shutting the lid of his laptop so he can better hear what's going on in the corridor.
"We used to drunkenly stumble home in the middle of the night and start undressing in the corridor," he says wistfully. "When was the last time we got drunk?"
"We got drunk last week," Harry says, nosing at the side of his head, still continuing his movements on Louis' dick. "It was so hot – you were so hot-"
Louis crinkles his nose at the memory. "No, what happened was you bought a bottle of red wine and two microwave meals from Co-Op on your way home, we drank the entire bottle while watching Bake Off and then you ended up in a hysterical fit of laughter when I starting sucking you off and hit me in the eye with your dick."
"But Loouuuu," Harry whines, doing what he always does when he doesn't like how things are going and just flopping like a dead, curly weight over Louis' torso, hand still down his joggers and trying to distract him by rubbing his thumb in little circles over the head of his cock. "I didn'tmean to, I said sorry-"
"I can hear them," Louis says, grabbing Harry's wrist and stilling him so he can concentrate. There are a few muffled giggles filtering through the walls, and something that sounds like someone throwing somebody else up against a wall. Louis isn't impressed. Then he thinks about Jason's rugby player arms, and he's a bit impressed, before steeling himself and becoming Very Unimpressed again.
"You can't be jealous of someone else having sex when you're getting, like, one of the best handjobs I've ever given," Harry sulks into his shoulder. Louis runs his fingers through his hair affectionately, but he's still listening to Leigh-Anne and Jason in the corridor, who sound like they're...going into the bathroom?
"No," Louis says, as Harry wriggles his hand out of his joggers and rolls over, grabbing his phone from the bedside table and resuming his normal stance of being absorbed in its all-empowering glow. "No, no, Harry, they're going to have sex in the shower, that's not fair, if we're not allowed to do that nobody is allowed!"
"If you don't want my handjob, I don't have an opinion," he says. Louis hits him gently on the stomach, flopping back on the bed. He's still mostly hard, and turns his head to pout at Harry for a kiss.
"I love you," he says, in a sing-song voice, before Harry glares up at him from the glow of Plants vs Zombies and puts his phone away, smacking a kiss to his lips.
"I don't think we're boring," he says, as Louis rolls on top of him, hands settling on his waist. Louis lets his hands curl over the waistband of his unzipped jeans, rocking back on Harry's erection. "I love having sex with you. It's probably my favourite thing ever."
"Yeah," Louis says, despite himself feeling the fondness start to creep over his face, "Me too. But, like. Remember when we had that house party and we both got a bit pissed and then spent the whole night fucking in Liam's room? Remember how annoyed he was when he found us in his bed that morning?"
Harry grins, hands gently manoeuvring Louis' hips as he rocks. "Yeah. That was great."
"Remember when we went to that drama party," Louis says, pleased that he's got Harry on board with this, his cock still hard and heavy beneath him, "and I was dancing on you – and you got so hard I had to blow you in the bathroom, and everyone queuing for the loo heard you come?" He's breathing in his ear now, eyes fluttering shut as Harry's hands slip down under the waistband of his trackies to take two handfuls of his bare arse, pulling him down against him as he rolls his hips up.
"Fuck," Harry breathes, burying his face in Louis' shoulder as they rock down against one another, and Louis is flushed and breathless but he's not done yet.
"When was the last time we properly fucked?" he says, roughly running his fingers through Harry's hair and tightening them just the way he loves. Harry groans into his collarbone.
"Ages," he finally manages, and even Louis can't help but gasp as Harry bounces him down on his lap, nosing into Harry's hair and inhaling the sweet scent of his shampoo.
"Want you inside me. Wanna ride you properly, sit in your lap, feel you – every inch of you." Louis breathes shakily, forgets for a moment that this is a competition because he's overwhelmed with how much he suddenly wants Harry in him.
"Yeah, yeah, me too, god it's been so long," Harry rasps back, and Louis has to kiss him before they break apart – hot and soft, slow and dirty. When he climbs off Harry he's always amazed to see he's naked in record time – even considering how tight his jeans are – and he struggles ungainly with trying to remove his jumper and trackies at the same before Harry helps him out and pulls him back into his lap, cock nestled in between his arse cheeks.
"You want it?" Harry says lowly, touching his lips to Louis' but not kissing him. Louis feels the most turned on he's been for ages, like a hot coil smouldering in his solar plexus and setting his entire body on fire.
"So bad," Louis replies, not even trying to hide it, and he buries his hands in Harry's hair as they kiss, slowly rolling his hips before Harry unexpectedly lifts him up and flops him face-down onto the bed, kissing the back of his neck as his other hand rubs at the small of his back.
"You know what else we haven't done for ages, the thing that makes you really loud," he murmurs, deep and gravelly, right in his ear. Louis clenches the duvet and moans into the pillow. This isn't quite what he had in mind, but he absolutely isn't going to say no.
"God, Harry, I want you so much," he says, almost not even aware he's saying it as Harry leaves him for a second, pulling open the drawer next to him and fishing through their supplies. Louis twists his fingers into the duvet, biting down on the corner of the pillow as Harry settles back between his legs, thumbs pressing into his thighs as he gently spreads his legs.
"Most gorgeous bum in the world," Harry mumbles, lips ghosting over his upper thigh as he reaches up to spread his cheeks, and then – oh.
Louis arches back off the bed almost as soon as Harry gets his mouth on him, because it's really been that long, and for some reason he tries to suck down the moans that keep spilling from his lips, cheeks and the tips of his ears burning bright red as Harry's tongue works on his hole, hot and fast and getting him all wet.
"C'mon," he says, biting down on Louis' upper thigh and making him stuff his entire face into the damp pillow to stop from moaning aloud, "thought you wanted to be loud, babe? So loud they can all hear?"
I wanted you to be loud, actually, Louis thinks fuzzily, as he feels one of Harry's lube-slick fingers start to work alongside his tongue. I wanted them all to hear how much you want me, but I guess this can work as well...
"Yeah," Harry breathes, as Louis twists his head so his mouth isn't obstructed by the pillow, biting his lip before letting out a long, low moan. Weirdly, this always seems to spur Harry on, and soon enough he's three fingers deep, Louis caught in the exquisite dilemma between thrusting back onto Harry's fingers or forwards onto the sheet.
"Ready?" Harry asks, coming up so he's plastered up against Louis' back, sucking long, wet kisses to his shoulder. He can hear the shower running in the bathroom – still – little slippery thuds coming through the walls, but he doesn't really care about that – what he does care about is hot and hard and trapped between his back and Harry's stomach, smearing precome against his skin. He clenches around Harry's fingers at the thought of getting him inside again.
"Definitely, want you so bad," he breathes croakily, and then Harry rolls off him, taking his fingers with him, and then a slippery hand is gripping his hip, rolling him over and upright. Louis is pliable as a rag doll as Harry manoeuvres him back onto his lap, kissing him once and pushing his damp fringe out of his eyes as he hands Louis the condom. It takes him a couple of goes to roll it on, mainly because Harry starts rather intently sucking a dark lovebite under his jaw, but once he does he doesn't waste any time raising himself up on his knees, thighs trembling just a little as he guides Harry in.
"Slow, slow," he murmurs, as Harry peppers kisses along his exposed throat, eyes fluttering shut as he is reminded just how long it has been. God, he can't even remember the last time he let Harry fuck him – sometime in the summer, probably, when he'd gone to stay with Harry at his stepdad's bungalow for the weekend. Harry always wants it and Louis will never say no, but right now, with Harry splitting him in half in the best way possible – it's incredible.
"OK?" Harry murmurs, gripping his hips as he bottoms out. Louis can't form words, waiting for the pain to ease into gentle, throbbing pleasure, letting out a strangled moan when one of Harry's thumbs comes up to press bluntly on his nipple, pleasure sizzling over his skin.
"Yeah, please," Louis says, ending on more of a sigh as Harry tips his face up for a kiss, shifting his hips just a little. Louis tangles his hands in Harry's hair as he starts to lift himself up and down properly, watching the tendons stand out in Harry's neck as he moves, Louis' cock bobbing in between them. It's not really the best angle to move at but Louis loves the fullness, loves how he gets to watch Harry's muscles moving under him, glistening with sweat. He's not the lanky eighteen-year-old he'd first met in freshers any more – oh no, now Harry and Liam are fitness buddies and go for runs on Sunday mornings and to the gym on a Thursday night. Harry is broad and has the bulk to go with his size, and Louis tries not to be too much of a wide-eyed drooling male about it all but he is. He loves it.
"Faster?" Harry asks, as Louis shifts forward on his knees, rising up and sinking down almost all the way. Louis nods and Harry plants his feet on the bed, properly thrusting as well as he can, and Louis feels his orgasm start to build. Harry's eyes are closed and his mouth is open in a perfect O; Louis is mesmerised, so much so that he loosens one hand from his hair and slides three fingers into his mouth. Harry sucks greedily, doesn't even choke when Louis curls his fingers and presses down hard on his tongue, and the sight of it makes his already slippery cock dribble even more.
"Like that?" Louis rasps, pulling his fingers out but hooking them on Harry's lower lip.
"Feel so good," Harry groans, loud as ever over the slapping of skin, "always feel so good, Lou, wish I – ah – wish I could fuck you – and blow you at the same time, just want – all of you," he finishes on a gasp, eyebrows knotting together and hips stuttering as he comes. Louis rides it out with him, still chasing his own orgasm, as Harry grabs Louis' wrist and moves it down between them, twining his spit-damp fingers over his dick as he jerks him quickly. It doesn't take long, maybe three or four strokes, before his brain whites out and he's coming hard all over Harry's gorgeous abs and that slightly ridiculous but mostly endearing butterfly tattoo.
"Wow," Louis mumbles, dropping his head to Harry's shoulders, ears ringing a little and his entire body loose and spent.
"Yeah."
"You were great. You're always great," he says, lifting his head so he can kiss him, and he's just losing himself in a slow, lazy snog when the ringing in his ears dies down and he can make out the very distinctive sound of Baa Baa Black Sheep through the walls.
"I think Jesy agrees," Harry says, and then they both burst out laughing.